


Asphyxiation

by notmykink



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Sex, Asphyxiation, Dacryphilia, Established Relationship, Future Fic, Kinktober 2017, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, what would YOU do if your bf asked you to choke him?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-15 10:33:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12319272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notmykink/pseuds/notmykink
Summary: Tooru wants to try something new.As usual, Hajime can't say no to him.





	Asphyxiation

**Author's Note:**

> kinktober day 9! you guessed it, asphyxiation! sorry i suck at titles ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> i've been busy with uni stuff and haven't really felt inspiration for the last couple of days, paired with some bad feelings i just decided to. not try and do them haha. but yeah, i'm still planning on writing more for kinktober, so don't worry! just not every day, since i have a job and uni and sometimes even a life on the side  
> this was super fun to write though, and i think it's p fluffy haha. i hope you enjoy!

He does it without really thinking about it, reaching his hand up around Tooru’s throat, not enough to put any pressure on it, but enough to feel his racing pulse under his fingertips.

Tooru looks up at him, lips reddened from having kissed so much and slightly agape, a dazed expression despite how sharp his eyes suddenly look, fixed on Hajime’s face.

For a moment his expression is unreadable, before he reaches his own hand up, placing it atop of Hajime’s own, pressing his fingers down on Hajime’s and tightening Hajime’s grip for him.

“Iwa-chan, I’m gonna—” Tooru begins, voice raspy, and Hajime pulls his hand away instantly, keeping an eye on Tooru’s expression to see if he did anything wrong, if his grip was to blame for his voice breaking. Tooru, on the other hand, seems completely oblivious to Hajime’s worry, reaching down to touch himself, moaning out loud before raising his head from the pillow, leaning up to give Hajime an open-mouthed kiss as he comes, tightening around Hajime, and pulling Hajime’s attention back to the actual sex.

Hajime only manages to give a few more shaky thrusts before he comes as well, groaning Tooru’s name into his mouth. He pulls out carefully after that, rolling off to pull his condom off, and when he looks up to Tooru again, he’s still panting. But that’s what catches Hajime’s attention — the hand he has resting around his own neck is, and maybe the thoughtful expression on his still flushed face as he wets his lips with the tip of his tongue.

Hajime decides not to dwell on it, pushing the thought out of his head as he rolls over, heading for the bathroom for a much needed post-sex cleanup shower.

 

Tooru doesn’t give him much of a chance to forget about it, bringing it up the next evening before a full day has even passed. He drapes himself across Hajime’s shoulder and arm in the sofa, blinking up at him to get his attention, and Hajime knows better than to ignore him when he has something on his mind, putting down his phone and turning towards him.

When Tooru is satisfied with the attention given, he sits back, suddenly looking almost _shy_ about what he’s about to ask.

“Last night, when we were—you know, in bed, you kind of…” he raises his hand, putting it around his own throat to demonstrate, and Hajime grimaces when it finally dawns on him that this is what Tooru wants to talk about.

“Yeah, sorry, I was just—” he begins, already apologetic, but Tooru jumps up, grabbing his leg as he leans in, shaking his head vigorously.

“No, don’t be!” he says, relieving Hajime of some of his guilt. Hajime exhales slowly, looking up at Tooru to ask why he brought it up, but the nervous look on Tooru’s face, cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment, stops him. “I, uh, wanted to ask if you… wanted to try it for real,” Tooru asks, carefully. Hajime stares at him.

“What?”

Tooru pouts at him, obviously having expected a different reaction, but he doesn’t let it deter him, pursing his lips in thought for a moment, considering his words.

“Like, you know… choking… during… you know,” he says, eloquently, and Hajime raises an eyebrow, forcing himself not to laugh.

“While we’re having sex?” he asks, not trying to hide that he isn’t exactly enthusiastic about the idea.

Tooru simply scrunches his nose at Hajime’s directness, looking at him as if _Hajime_ is the weirdo asking his partner to choke him during sex. But then he nods, giving Hajime a small, sincere smile. He’s serious about it, Hajime realises, frowning nervously.

“Yeah, uh, I’ll—I’ll think about it, okay?” he says, and Tooru nods in approval of the answer, pushing himself up from the sofa.

 

“So, have you thought about it?”

Hajime looks up in surprise, probably resembling a deer caught in the headlights, too quickly realising what Tooru is asking about.

“Not really,” he says, grimacing at how unsure he sounds. He _has_ been thinking about it, a lot actually, but he hasn’t come up with an actual answer yet, and he hates not being able to just being able to come up with a clear answer. Tooru looks down at him, furrowing his eyebrows in worry, before he sits down next to Hajime, bumping their shoulders together.

“Don’t worry, Iwa-chan, I won’t put you through something you don’t like,” he says, as a means of comfort, as if Hajime didn’t already know that.

 _Idiot,_ Hajime thinks. _It’s you I’m worried about._

And it should be obvious — Tooru will be the one in danger if they try it out, and Hajime wonders if he hit him on the head one time too many, since he seems somehow _eager_ for Hajime to actually _hurt_ him now, even though he hasn’t even done anything to deserve it. Did Hajime somehow accidentally condition him into enjoying pain? Was he supposed to be turned on by the idea of _choking_ his boyfriend?

“Hey, Iwa-chan, stop thinking so hard,” Tooru says, resting a hand on Hajime’s thigh, making his heart skip a beat for an entirely different reason. “If you really don’t want to, you can just say no,” Tooru says, and he’s so damn _sweet,_ despite what Hajime usually says, how _he_ usually acts, a hundred percent patient and accepting, thinking that Hajime isn’t actually interested in doing it.

“I don’t—I mean, I _do_ want to, I’m just worried about you,” Hajime admits.

Tooru laughs.

“Why would you? I trust you, Iwa-chan,” Tooru says, pressing their thighs against each other, leaning in against them so they’re touching from knee to shoulder.

Hajime grumbles under his breath, something unintelligible about what could happen, but Tooru simply leans in further, resting his head on Hajime’s shoulder, his hand sliding up Hajime’s thigh slowly.

“Can’t you trust me with telling you if I’ve had enough?” he asks, and the question is innocent enough, but Hajime instantly realises what he’s doing.

“Of course,” he says, well aware that he’s playing right into Tooru’s hands, but he _does_ trust Tooru, with his life, but the problem is that it isn’t Hajime’s own life on the line. Well, he should trust himself too, he’s just—worried that it’d go wrong and he’d accidentally hurt Tooru, even if Tooru wouldn’t admit it. But he _should_ trust Tooru with this, if Tooru trusts him enough to put his well being — and his throat — in Hajime’s hands. And Hajime does trust him.

Tooru clasps his hands together excitedly, undeterred as ever by Hajime’s internal battle.

“Good, then there’s no problem!” he says, before grabbing Hajime’s hand and raising his head from Hajime’s shoulder, blinking up at him from under his eyelashes, well aware of his power over Hajime.

“I guess not, it’s just—“ Hajime mumbles, his resolution already wearing away, and when Tooru leans in to kiss him, Hajime finally gives in, dropping the conversation.

Tooru doesn’t spend a long time before he deepens the kiss, grabbing Hajime by the collar and crawling up into his lap, straddling him on the sofa.

Hajime barely has time to do anything before Tooru pushes him back against the backrest, leaning in over him and grinding down against his groin while kissing him deeply, pressing his tongue into his mouth and sliding it over his teeth while waiting for Hajime to catch up and open his mouth. Hajime does, reaching up around Tooru’s hips as Tooru throws his arms around his shoulders, tightening his grip until he’s pressing their chests and mouths together and his arms lock around Hajime’s neck.

Tooru raises a leg, pressing it behind Hajime’s back instead of kneeling on the sofa next to his thighs before doing the other thing, locking his ankles around Hajime’s lower back before he grinds down against Hajime’s abdomen again. It doesn’t take much more for Hajime to understand what he wants him to do, but before he has a chance to, Tooru breaks free from the kiss with a gasp, looking down at him.

“Bedroom,” he breathes out urgently, his lips grazing over Hajime’s in the movement, before he tilts his head and kisses him once more.

With his hands cupping Tooru’s ass instead for support, Hajime pushes himself and Tooru up from the sofa, Tooru still hanging from his shoulders, with his legs around his middle, holding up his own weight.

Hajime lifts Tooru to the bedroom, relieved to see the door open so he only has to nudge it with his foot to get in. When he reaches the bed, he leans in over it and lets go of Tooru’s ass before he reaches up behind him, grabbing Tooru’s knees and wrestling them apart. For a few moments, Tooru tries to tighten his grip and pull Hajime along with him, but after a bit of fighting, Tooru gives up, letting go of Hajime’s neck and falling onto the bed with an _‘oof’_. He scrunches his nose for a moment in disappointment, looking up at Tooru from where he’s sprawled over the bed, but then he seems to remember his plans, hastily pulling his t-shirt over his head so he’s only in boxers.

Hajime, who has actually been outside the apartment today, begins opening his own jeans, laughing when Tooru crawls over and kneels in front of him on the bed, eagerly trying to help pulling them down over Hajime’s legs.

Grabbing him by the wrists, Hajime takes a step back, shaking his head. “Relax,” he says, at Tooru’s impatience, and Tooru pouts up at him for a moment before nodding, sitting back down on his knees.

The look Tooru gives him while he undresses is unfair, Hajime thinks, the way Tooru bites his lower lip while helping Hajime undress him with his eyes only, and when Hajime is finally in nothing but boxers, he returns to the edge of the bed, chuckling at Tooru’s eagerness as Tooru leaps back, pulling his own boxers off and spreading his legs for view, propping his fingers into his mouth and pulling them out with a loud ‘pop’, shiny with saliva, before he reaches down, sliding them between asscheeks, spreading them and carefully pressing a finger over his entrance, eyes still fixed on Hajime.

Hajime growls, quickening his steps as he moves to the bedside table, pulling out the drawer and grabbing the lube and a condom.

“I said _relax,”_ Hajime says, sitting down on the bed and grabbing Tooru’s hand, stopping him from going any further.

Tooru just blinks up at him, then slowly lets his eyes fall to the bottle in his hand. “I can do it, if you just get ready to—” Tooru begins, reaching out for it, obviously eager to get started.

“Lie down,” Hajime says, Tooru’s impatience somehow giving him the power to actually stay patient, like some sort of accidental reverse psychology. Tooru pushes his lower lip out in a childish pout, giving Hajime those stupid puppy eyes that he always uses to make things go his way, but he actually _does_ do as said, slowly lying back down onto the bed, spreading his knees a bit further when Hajime crawls closer to make room.

Part of Hajime wants to go slow, just to torture Tooru, but there’s also something _too_ mouthwatering about having him like this, so pliant and eager, for once not arguing with Hajime simply to not let Hajime have his way too easily. There’s something about Tooru tonight anyway, pressing down onto his fingers and whining quietly, like back when they were just starting all this out and he wasn’t used to all of the sensations. He begs for another finger, quicker than he usually does, and if Hajime didn’t know better, that Tooru was just trying to move along with all this quicker so he could have his way, Hajime would probably do as he said. But he does, and he takes his time, stretching out Tooru with slow, deliberate thrusts of his fingers, spreading them inside him and teasing the prostate, just to keep Tooru on his toes.

With three fingers in and a panting Tooru, it _is_ hard to be deliberately slow, and even Hajime meets his limit. Part of him wants to continue just fingering him — seeing Tooru wrecked by this, simply by the work of his fingers, is oddly empowering _and_ it makes his dick twitch against his boxers. Just the thought of unraveling Tooru completely with nothing but his fingers inside him is ridiculously arousing, but—not tonight. That’ll just have to wait for another night.

Hajime pulls his fingers out, and Tooru exhales harshly in relief, looking up at him with a slightly glazed over expression, face already covered in a thin layer of sweat. Hajime grits his teeth, pulling the foil open with more force than necessary, pushing down his boxers and rolling it on. He pours more lube out into his palm and slicks it over his length, putting away the flask again before he situates himself between Tooru’s legs again, leaning in.

Tooru reaches his hands up, cupping Hajime’s cheeks the instant he’s in reach, pulling him down for a kiss while pushing his hips up from the mattress, as if attempting to meet him halfway.

Hajime chuckles into the open-mouthed kiss, but presses Tooru down against the mattress again, looking down between them and slowly pressing his tip up against Tooru’s entrance, slicked with lube and ready for him. He presses in slowly, and even Tooru hitches for breath when the head presses past the rim. Hajime continues, careful as ever, well aware that even after three fingers, his thickness is still quite a feat to take, and the way Tooru is still gasping into his mouth makes him worry for a moment about whether or not he really _was_ patient enough until—

Tooru reaches up around him, pulling Hajime closer with force so he lands on top of him, sinking in deeper with a loud groan.

“Fuck, what are you—” Hajime tries to ask through gritted teeth, pressing his forehead against Tooru’s.

“I can take it—please fuck me, Iwa-chan,” Tooru says, direct as ever, and that _definitely_ shouldn’t be sexy, a more rational part of Hajime argues, but damn if it doesn’t send sparks of want through him, making Hajime push in further until he bottoms out, groaning against Tooru’s lips. Tooru tilts his head upwards, biting at Hajime’s lower lip, and when Hajime rolls his hips outwards, pushing in again, he gasps in surprise, opening his mouth and letting go of Hajime’s lips.

Hajime seizes his chance, tilting his own head to the side and leaning down, kissing Tooru with all the passion and urgency he’s been forced to keep inside, thrusting into him as he tries to build up a rhythm.

Tooru whimpers into his mouth cutely, tilting his hips upwards as if to accommodate him, but he’s too shaky to try and follow the pace. Hajime doesn’t mind though, wanting nothing more than to just fuck into Tooru until he doesn’t remember his own name.

After finally managing to set a rhythm that has Tooru hitching for his breath, tensing in pleasure whenever Hajime rubs against his prostate with each thrust, Hajime reaches up and brushes Tooru’s hair out of his face, also the more stubborn locks of hair that are already sticking to his forehead, damp with sweat.

When Hajime continues sliding his fingers down Tooru’s face, caressing his cheek, Tooru closes his eyes, leaning into the touch. Hajime is overwhelmed with fondness for a moment, and it’s exactly because of that, because he loves Tooru so damn much, that he continues down to Tooru’s neck, sneaking his fingers over his touch and tightening his grip slightly.

Tooru reacts almost instantly, lips parting in a moan.

“You okay?” Hajime asks, brushing his thumb over where he’d normally check for Tooru’s pulse, and Tooru nods slightly, his chin touching Hajime’s hand for a moment before he looks up again, blinking up at Hajime hazily.

“Harder,” he says, gritting his teeth together, but the corners of his mouth are crawling up into a small smile, and Hajime chuckles, catching Tooru’s hand with his free hand when he notices he’s about to reach up, probably to grab Hajime’s hand and pretty much do it for him again. He knows what Tooru wants by now, and tonight, he wants to try and give it to him, without Tooru having to do anything.

“Relax,” Hajime says, intertwining their fingers and squeezing Tooru’s hand gently. “Squeeze my hand if it becomes too much, okay? Or just tell me,” he says, raising his head to look down at Tooru and see his reaction.

Tooru nods eagerly, lips pressed into a straight line and eyes shut in excitement. Hajime can’t help but lean down and give him a small peck on the lips again before he tightens his grip slightly, his fingers denting the soft skin on Tooru’s neck slightly.

“Look at me,” Hajime orders, and Tooru obliges instantly, staring up at him with wide, fond eyes, nothing to hide. Hajime loves him the most like this, bared for him without all the shit he puts up in public, no persona or image to uphold. Hajime gives him a small smile, thrusting into him again, just as he tightens his grip around his neck, and Tooru gasps, his hand tensing in Hajime’s. Loosening his grip instantly, Hajime frowns down at him.

“No, please!” Tooru gasps, frowning at the loss, trying to reach his other hand up, resting it on Hajime’s elbow. “I was just—please, again,” Tooru says, giving Hajime an encouraging smile, and Hajime nods slowly in reply, slowly tightening his grip again.

Supposedly, the restriction of oxygen to the brain should make the build-up for the orgasm and the orgasm itself more powerful, intense. He can feel Tooru swallow underneath his hand, and every slow, deep breath he takes, ragged when Hajime thrusts into him again, nudging over his prostate.

Tooru’s face is flushed pink, and his eyes are wet, with tears pooling at the corners of his eyes that he’s refusing to blink away, but he’s tracing his thumb over the side of Hajime’s hand where their fingers are intertwined, his mouth open wide in a grin.

Hajime thrusts once more, sinking deeper into him this time, having a bit of trouble with keeping up the pace now that he’s nearing an orgasm as well, almost embarrassed about how attractive Tooru is like this, panting and completely under Hajime’s control with his fingers locked around his throat.

“Iwa— _Hajime_ ,” Tooru gasps, reaching his free hand up around Hajime’s wrist, barely putting in any pressure as he gently tugs at his hand to stop him. Hajime instantly releases all pressure around Tooru’s neck, letting go as his eyebrows furrow in worry, but Tooru shakes his head as if knowing exactly what he’s thinking about — he probably does know, he knows Hajime too well — before raising his head from the pillow, tugging Hajime down by the neck to kiss him.

Hajime places his hand on the pillow next to Tooru’s head, kissing the corner of Tooru’s mouth instead, letting Tooru gasp for all the air he wants, but forcing himself to keep up the pace so Tooru’s breathing doesn’t calm down to a normal level either.

Tooru’s legs are shaking on each side of Hajime’s hips, and he’s whimpering Hajime’s name once more, trying to kiss Hajime in that absent minded, greedy way that lets Hajime know he’s close to coming as well.

Hajime reaches down between them with the hand he had around his neck, touching his hardened length after having neglected Tooru’s own erection for too long. Tooru gasps into his mouth at the direct touch, hips buckling into Hajime’s hand, making Hajime sink deeper into him again. It only takes a few strokes to build up Tooru’s orgasm, and when Tooru comes, tightening around Hajime, he pulls him with him over the edge, making Hajime come as well inside him, his cock pulsing, surrounded by tight heat, and everywhere his skin is burning where he’s in contact with Tooru, but all he wants to do is press deeper, closer, to envelop himself in the heat.

Tooru has collapsed completely onto the mattress when Hajime pulls out, still panting in pleasure, eyes and cheeks wet. Hajime leans down, kissing the tears away from Tooru’s face before he rolls over, reaching up on the bedside table for a kleenex and wiping off Tooru’s chest and his own where a bit of Tooru’s come hit him too.

He pulls off his own condom, tying a little knot on it and discarding it with the kleenex before he turns back to Tooru, shocked by the loving gaze directed at him. Tooru’s eyelashes flutter as he forces himself to keep his eyes open, overcome with post-sex dreariness, his cheeks flushed and his entire face radiating from the afterglow. He’s beautiful.

“Thank you,” Tooru says, sincerely, as if Hajime has done him a huge favour, almost looking… guilty.

“Dumbass, don’t look at me like that,” Hajime says, leaning down and kissing Tooru where he can reach, a small peck on his nose. “I liked it too, okay?” he says, and Tooru looks up at him, scanning his face for a moment. Then he smiles, seemingly accepting the answer, before he tilts his chin up, leaning in for a kiss.

“I love you,” Tooru breaks away from the kiss to say, still pressing his nose against Hajime’s, his breath hot against the lower half of Hajime’s face.

“I love you too,” Hajime replies, leaning in to deepen the kiss, but Tooru places a hand on his chest, leaning back as a smirk appears on his lips, a glint in his eyes.

“So, you like choking me, huh? How naughty, Iwa-chan,” he teases, sticking out his tongue, and Hajime rolls his eyes before pushing him over to lie on the back again before crawling on top of him, pinning him against the bed.

“You really need to learn how to shut up,” Hajime tells him, despite being unable to keep from smiling. Tooru tilts his head upwards, kissing him lightly.

“Oh, please, you lov—”

Hajime doesn’t let him finish the sentence this time, leaning down and closing the distance between them, interrupting him with a kiss.


End file.
